Mother, Mother
by plastic hearts
Summary: Hermione is torn between two worlds. Slightly angsty. Oneshot songfic from The Veronica's Mother Mother about our dear Hermione. Complete. Read & Review.


Disclaimer. I do not own Hermione Granger or any other character or plot ideas mentioned. They all belong to the lovely Jo Rowling. I also do not own the lyrics. Those belong to the wonderful pair of Australian beauties, The Veronicas.

_Mother, mother  
Can you hear me?  
I'm just calling to say hello._

Hermione Granger sat at her desk with a quill in hand, and a piece of parchment lying in front of her. It was blank, with only "Dear Mum," written on the top. In the past few years this girl had changed. She was no longer a bookwormish, rule-follower with a hatred for anything disorganized. Hermione was no longer a bushy-haired, bucktoothed plain Jane. Instead, she had grown into a girl her muggle parent's did not recognize, and couldn't imagine. She wanted to remain part muggle, but it was difficult being two different people. Muggle Hermione and Witch Hermione.

_How's the weather?  
How's my father?  
Am I lonely? Heavens no!_

She began with smalltalk. Asking about the people in town, her father, the weather. In her last letter, Mrs. Granger asked how Hermione was coping without her family. Seven years going to Hogwarts and Mrs. Granger thought that her daughter still couldn't survive without her. But Hermione could, and had proven that again and again with her two best friends, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. Hermione was happy in the wizarding world, even without dear old mum and dad. Sure, she missed them, but she had the Weasley's who also cared for her, and Harry.

_Mother, mother  
Are you listening?  
Just a phone call to ease your mind.  
Life is perfect  
Never better_

Her mother, however, refused to believe that Hermione loved living with those "magic folk." Of course they were proud of their only daughter, but they couldn't imagine her anywhere but home. Hermione etched onto the parchment, "Never better." Similar to the time she had said it after returning to her friends after a terrible time being petrified. Of course, she couldn't recall the time, but she knew that she must have missed her friends, and their adventures, and being out of the hospital wing made her feel "Never Better."

_  
Distance making the heart grow blind._

Ron had his family nearby, and Harry would prefer not to have his aunt, uncle and cousin anywhere near him. Distance didn't affect Ron nor Harry. Hermione, however, dealt with the effects of distance every day as her parents became more and more out of touch with how she was. She could cast spells with a wand, she could brew potions and saw creatures her parents couldn't imagine. All they saw was their daughter, still 11, still a muggle with no knowledge of her magical abilities. Maybe that was all they wanted to see, maybe it was all Hermione wanted them to see.

_When you sent me off to see the world  
Were you scared that I might get hurt?  
Would I try a little tobacco?  
Would I keep on hiking up my skirt?_

Hermione was a good girl, still, always would be. She could never flaunt herself like Pansy Parkinson did for Draco Malfoy. It seemed, however, that just because her hair was now down her back in beautiful curls and her smile was better thanks to her time spent in the hospital wing after that terrible incident in the dungeons, her parents thought her promiscuous now. Hermione was not about to ruin her life in anyway, her future still being her main concern. She wanted to do something with her life in a way that was bigger than everything she had ever attempted before. But how could Hermione ask her mother, "Why do you see me as a bad kid. Why don't you believe I can still have a part of that 11 year old muggle in me and be a witch?"

_I'm just starting to build a name  
I can feel it  
Around the corner  
I could make it any day_

Trelawney was a load of it, as far as Hermione was concerned. But Hermione knew for a fact that she could see into her own future, and that she was successful. Good grades would lead to a good job in the ministry or even at a school. She was head girl, and was prefect two straight years prior to that. Walking out of Hogwarts in June meant walking into opportunity. Heck, Hermione could have jobs lined up for her already if she wanted, but she had to finish her education first. Only a few more months.

_Still your daughter still the same  
If I tell you what you want to hear  
Will it help you to sleep well at night  
Are you sure that I'm your perfect dear  
Now just cuddle up and sleep tight_

"In June, I will return home to see you, mum. I will only be able to spend a short time with you, for I have job opportunities to seek. I will not, however, attend muggle college. I am ill prepared for muggle schools now, and am confident in my ability to be successful in the wizarding world," Hermione wrote, her penmanship neat. She needed to prove that she was still their daughter. That she was still Hermione Granger. Hermione also needed for her parents to trust her, and not to worry. To still believe that Hermione was their daughter and loved them. To still believe that she was their perfect dear. They needed to sleep soundly, knowing Hermione was safe.

_I miss you.  
I love you._

"Love, Hermione," she scawled out her flowy signature. She loved her parents. She missed her parents. But she was a witch. She was also a muggle. But how does one choose what life to live? Hermione didn't want to live a lie, but no matter what she felt like she would be. In the meantime, she would try to appease everyone, but she would always miss, and love, someone.

---

Authoress' Note: Well, my lovelies. I was struck by inspiration with this one. Listening to The Veronica's the other night on my iPod, I thought to myself, "I could do something with this." And here we have it. A one-shot song-fic revolving around our Hermione and her feelings of being split between two worlds. Review, of course, dears. Constructive Criticism, flattery, opinions, more flattery. That will do. Happy Reading.


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